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by nicoleaf



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Except maybe Jason, F/M, I cried writing this, I'm sorry not sorry I wrote this, Jason is a good bro, M/M, Nico likes Captain America, Percico - Freeform, Percy is really oblivious, Teen Angst, Two Shot, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, homophobia in the 1940's, percabeth, pernico - Freeform, so is everyone else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleaf/pseuds/nicoleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who ever heard of a gay son of Hades anyway?</p><p>A character study of Nico Di Angelo, from the 1940's to the Blood of Olympus.</p><p>(Note: Written Pre-Blood Of Olympus)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1940's- The Last Olympian

Nico was thirteen the day he finally accepted who he was. He was old enough to realize the repercussions if he was ever to act on the feelings that had built their home inside his heart. It was complicated. But undeniably simple.

 

He was in love with Percy Jackson.

 

For a while he never dared acknowledge the fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach, when he was alone at night he would let the walls and barriers he pent up fall down for the night, only for them to be rebuilt when he awoke with the dawn. It was during these restless nights that he wanted nothing more than to return to Camp Half Blood, to make a home for himself and see if it was even possible for the feelings, not love it couldn’t be love, to be reciprocated. But in the mornings it was just another pang that made his heart beat rather than stutter out.

 

When he was younger his mother suspected it, the 1940’s were a dangerous time for people like him. Hitler marched them across miles and miles of ever stretching land, pink triangles hung like iron weights from their sleeves, some already broken under the weight of insecurity, others stood and walked with pride as they were marched unto their deaths in brutal concentration camps. All because one man convinced millions that their love was less love and therefore evil.

 

The first clue Maria DiAngelo had been given was the day her boy had found enough money to buy a comic book from the store near their new New York apartment, he had begged and pleaded until she finally relented, waiting for Nico outside the store as he insisted that he was big enough to by a comic book by himself. He came out running with the biggest grin on his face, wildly waving a small booklet with Captain America on it. Jumping for joy and giving his mother a hug, it was the happiest Maria had seen her son in a long time, not since she had announced to her two children that they were leaving their little Italian village and going to America, the land of opportunity, and apparently, the best comic books ever.

 

As soon as they had gotten back to their modest apartment Nico had bounded into his room with Bianca trailing behind. They poured over the pictures and bright eyes absorbed the plot eagerly. Bianca, who had just entered adolescences, gushed over the super heroes and their heroic acts of bravery, annoying Nico with her squeals of delight when she found a picture she found exceptionally handsome. It wasn’t until she giggled girlishly over of close up of the good Captain America himself did Nico finally put an end to her girlish ways; he very vehemently stated that ‘She couldn’t have Steve because he was going to marry him one day.’ Bianca laughed not realizing the weight behind the words and the pain that it could cause. But Maria, who had been leaning on the door frame admiring the scene, felt a spark of fear race into her heart. But she brushed it off; Nico’s father could protect him if she couldn’t, or so she believed.

 

Maria Di Angelo died three month later.

 

Nico and Bianca froze with time inside the Lotus Hotel and Casino.

But then, the social worker came.

 

Westover was weird. His teachers hated him, his classmates acted like he didn’t exist, and Bianca decided that boys were stupid.

 

Then Percy Jackson appeared.

 

He was brave, tall, and handsome. The definition of hero, stunning with windswept hair colored like the onyx stone his mother used to wear around her neck; green eyes like an ocean of seaweed, a smile that could make hearts melt. But best of all, he paid attention to Nico. He answered his questions, or at least tried to. He was everything Nico had ever dreamed of when he thought of what it would be like to be in love. He was perfect, one part Superhero, and one part Greek god; literally, this guy was the son of Poseidon! How cool was that? And when he looked Nico in the eyes and _swore_ to him that he would keep Bianca safe, he hung to his words like any love struck puppy would. Replaying them in his head over and over again, he _believed_ him, _trusted_ him, and sometimes when he thought about it, he _loved_ him. He’d heard the stories from the other demigods; Percy slayed the Minotaur, Percy retrieved Zeus Lightning Bolt, Percy’s the child of prophecy, Percy this, Percy that, Percy, _Percy, **Percy!**_ It was impossible for Nico not to think that his crush was something more, that he and Percy were meant to be. But he also heard the stories of Annabeth, tall, athletic, smart, beautiful daughter of Athena, and how all the campers wished that Percy and Annabeth would just shut up and kiss each other already. To say he was jealous was an understatement.

He _hated_ Annabeth Chase.

But the biggest blow came when the questing party came home, without Bianca. Annabeth, she was there of course, a little gray in her hair he thought spitefully, hoping it would make her seem older and less attractive but no, there, holding her up was Percy, with a matching gray streak. How cute. They matched. And then Percy took him aside and told him, he told him how Bianca died and how he tried to save her but couldn’t. He gave him the figurine that his sister had sacrificed her life for. Hades, he had always wanted him, he thought bitterly. Numbly he stared at it, loosely gripping it in his hand, trembling, he would not cry, he couldn’t cry, not here, not now. So he exploded, how dare Percy lie to him, how dare he let Bianca die. HE TRUSTED HIM. HE BELIEVED HIM. HE HAD TRUSTED PERCY TO KEEP HER SAFE. HE LIED TO HIM! _HE LIED TO HIM!_ Full of anger and betrayal he hardly noticed the skeletons rising from the ground, he hardly noticed anything but the face of the demigod before him, he hated him, he HATED HIM.

He hated Percy Jackson.

 

So he ran, he would become good at running throughout the next couple years, but nothing, not even the feel of rubber soles slapping the pavement could take away the numbness in his heart, not even the rain could wash away his betrayal. He tried drugs, might as well he thought, but they didn’t work. Apparently drugs couldn’t kill you or even effect you when one of your parents was god of something. Booze didn’t work either. He could get drunk that was for sure, but the taste was awful and the hangovers were worse. After the first couple nights of drinking he stopped, vowing to never let another drop of beer fall on his lips again. He tried cutting, flicking and slicing a blade over his wrists when the memories became too intense, but the cuts were always gone in the morning, another perk of being son of the god of the underworld apparently, self-imposed cuts and bruises healed twelve hours after. Joy.

He was hanging around the Triple G Ranch when _he,_ showed up. He couldn’t say his name, he couldn’t. He feared that if he did then all the hate that he had built into a wall would crumble down until Nico was a crying mess. He would be strong, he would be. And when _he_ pulls him aside again he pushes him away, he lets him go and clean the crap filled horse stable and he doesn’t care if he dies, he doesn’t care at all. Even if it means that he himself will die along with the others, because maybe when he’s dead he won’t have to feel anymore. But of course, the precious son of Poseidon actually completes the task. Why wouldn’t he?  He’s Percy _Fucking_ Jackson.

He runs away again after that, he goes to the Underworld and finds Bob, well Iapetus. He tells him stories about Percy and how good Percy is, he becomes Bob’s friend and gods, he never realized how _good it felt_ to have a _friend_. Bob is smarter than anyone gives him credit for, he knows without Nico ever saying it, he knows why Nico tells him about Percy, he knows that the Italian boy has buried his feelings for the hero deep within himself, and that he only lets them peek out at the rarest time. He _knows._ And that’s enough. But he doesn’t know that at night Nico wakes up panting and sweating, dreaming nightmares about his sister’s death, his mothers, about Percy, Percy killing him, Percy killing them, Percy swimming, Percy fighting, Percy doing nothing, and sometimes when he doesn’t wake up in time, Percy kissing him senseless, Percy telling him he loves him, their wedding day, the day they ado-

Those days are the worse, the days he buries himself in hatred of Percy Jackson, the days he breathes curses, the days he hates himself just as much if not more than Percy Jackson.

 

 

The war is starting.

He takes Percy to the Underworld to become invincible, he watches as Percy writhes in agony, until he centers onto a thought and holds on. He watches the change, a flash of brilliant light that fades as soon as it appears. Futilely he hopes that it was him that Percy centered on, him that kept Percy human. But he knows better now.

The battle happens.

Luke dies.

Percy is offered immortality, he turns it down.

Of course he does, Nico thinks bitterly, he’s Percy fucking Jackson who has to play the hero every single _fucking_ time. Instead the half-blood asks for all demigods to be claimed, for cabins for minor gods and shoot it, Hades as well. Its granted of course. Now Nico has no excuse but to stay at camp. So he thinks to himself that maybe he’ll give it a shot. So he stays the night at camp, but then right before he’s about to head off for a good night’s rest, the best he would have undoubtedly for months, he accidently walks by the lake. Percy and Annabeth are making out underwater while most of camp cheers on. He turns sharply and stalks off.

He’s gone in the morning.

He doesn’t see Percy Jackson for almost a year until he shows up at the only place Nico wants to keep a secret. Camp Jupiter.

What did he ever do to deserve this?

 


	2. The Lost Hero - The Blood of Olympus

Nico hated life. It always gave him the short end of the stick.

Why in the name of all things good and right was Percy _flipping_ Jackson standing before him now, looking at him, looking at him like for all the world Nico knew all the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.

“I know you don’t I?” reverberated through his soul, and for a moment than to take advantage of the situation, to say “Yes”, to tell Percy that the dreams he had at night were reality, to make them reality. But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. So he lied. He said “No.”

But he couldn’t stop himself from staring, he couldn’t. This wasn’t the brave, cocky, selfless hero he had fallen for, the boy was lost, confused, and almost… lonely. Nico wanted nothing more than to walk over to him, to wrap his arms around him, to hold and be held. But no. He didn’t deserve the luxury, not even when Percy was finally within reach. The Percy that Nico saw now was human, oh so wonderfully human, not the high and mighty unattainable son of the sea that Percy didn’t know he was.

But he couldn’t, so he ignored it, he left the camp and pretended that nothing had happened. Percy left with Frank and Nico’s sister Hazel, wonderful Hazel who was so much like Bianca. The three of them went off on their quest, Nico’s life went on, but the constant worry still ping panged at his heart.

Then the Giants came, they captured him and stuffed him in a jar like a freak to be laughed at, or an alien to be experimented on. Like every nightmare he had had at night since he found out that even as a demigod, he was- he was different, even more different than he had originally thought. Whoever heard of a gay son of Hades anyway?

So he lay in his jar and ate pomegranate seeds, one each day, praying to every god he knew of, to the God his mother had praised, the one who’s cross she had worn around her neck inlaid with Onyx. And he waited.

They came, they rescued him when he was half alive, still confused and still dying for water. It took him a while, but he did get better. But then they found the Athena Parthenos.

Annabeth fell, and for a terrifying moment, Nico thought _“good riddance.”_ But he immediately started hating himself for it. Percy of course grabbed her hand and heart wrenchingly told her he wasn’t losing her again, and Nico wished futilely that Percy would say that to him, just once. But Percy was still hanging on, and panic shot through Nico’s body like a rocket, worry zooming into his heart. Percy began to slip and Nico grabbed his hand, desperately holding, clutching, hanging on to the hand of the boy he loved since the first day. Since the first time Annabeth fell.

But he wasn’t strong enough. They fell and Nico wished that he had the guts to shout down all his pent up emotions. But he didn’t. It wasn’t until Cupid grabbed him that he even acknowledged his aching, broken heart.

Cupid was a jerk bag, he hunted Nico and Jason like prey, taunting and teasing. It wasn’t enough though, he could yell his lungs out but Nico had learned how to keep quiet. It wasn’t until Cupid had shot him square in the heart with his arrow that Nico finally spoke up, he tried to use Annabeth as his scapegoat, but Cupid saw right through it, _“Still hiding….”_ reverberated in the air. But it was ok, Jason got it, and thank goodness for Jason, but curse him as well. How could someone be so accepting? How could the bronze warrior that was Jason possibly understand everything that Nico had lived through in his short but long life? He couldn’t, that was the answer, and try as he might he couldn’t. Nico’s thoughts were beyond comprehension to the Roman who had everything come naturally to him.

So Jason knew, and maybe that was good, he kept trying to make him tell the others, to tell Percy, but that wasn’t happening. Not as long as he was breathing.

Breathing, that was a funny thing, how his breathe hitched when he saw Percy and Annabeth again, how it caught in his throat when he thought that Jason would look at him with disgust, how it sighed when he left himself to his thoughts. How it accelerated when he jumped in front of Percy to shield him from the wrath of Gaea, and it became ragged and painful when he fell to his side and lay there, surrounded by the Seven, what was he doing here anyway? He wasn’t part of the quest, ruefully he gave a small laugh, and he was going to die wasn’t he? The laugh grew deeper and louder, coming out of the gut of his stomach, filling up his very soul. This was what he wanted wasn’t it? For the pain to ebb away into nothingness? But now all he wanted was to live, to feel the sun on his face, but in the dark cavern somewhere in Greece, he was going to die. He could be reincarnated again, maybe he would find Bianca again, he would try for the Isles of the Blessed, it was lonely there, true, but Bianca would probably get there, and the others who died in his lifetime, Percy might even be there some day. Percy, Percy was looking at him with sad eyes, he shouldn’t be sad; this meant that he would always be with Annabeth, that Nico would never get in their way like he wanted to. With what little strength he had left he lifted his arm to tenderly touch Percy’s face, to caress the smooth skin of the boy he loved.

“Don’t cry.” He whispered as he wiped away a lone tear.

“You’re not supposed to die; no one is, please…” Percy’s voice was broken, tears now openly streaming down his face. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault, I-I shouldn’t have, I should have-” He was cut off by Nico’s ragged breathing.

“Don’t say you’re sorry, it isn’t your fault, it my choice.” Nico whispered in all sincerity, “I think I’ll try for the Isles, Bianca did. Maybe I can find her again, it wasn’t your fault for her either, I see that now… I forgive you Percy, I forgive you Percy Jackson.” His eyes fluttered as his voice grew distanced.

“Please, Nico please. You can do this, we can make it back to Camp, don’t die know, Hazel needs you, your friends need you, I- _I need you_ ” Annabeth reached out a comforting hand to Percy, but he barely felt it.

“It’s too late now…. I see it already, looks like Shakespeare and Amelia Earhart are on judge duty with Minos today… That will be interesting…”

“Please, there must be _something_ I can do!” begged Percy, tears still sliding wet and fat down his cheeks.

“Just… Just… let me look at you…” When Percy complied Nico pushed himself up and with the last ounce of strength he had in his dying body, he pressed his lips to the demigod before him’s and whispered quietly, “I never thought I’d ever do that," and with the kiss on his lips, and the green-blue eyes of Poseidon’s favorite son on him, Nico Di Angelo, the boy out of time, the freak son of Hades, closed his eyes for the last time.

 


End file.
